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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24176242">'Twould Smell As Sweet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialMoth/pseuds/SocialMoth'>SocialMoth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Meet-cute 'verse [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(vine voice: "FUCK YER GENDER ROLES"), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Mentions of Infertility, One Shot, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Keith (Voltron), Unplanned Pregnancy, gender neutral titles, just to cover bases, mentions of gender roles, mentions of past abuse/trauma, mentions of transphobia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:47:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24176242</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialMoth/pseuds/SocialMoth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith opened his eyes to face the door out of their bedroom. His arm stretched out across the mattress, Lance's side of the bed starkly bare. He blinked. Frowned. Licked his dry lips and swallowed. His throat hurt.</p><p>"Lance?" he called out. Barely more than a whisper. Squeezing his eyes shut, Keith rolled sluggishly onto his back, wincing over the throbbing pain in his abdomen, the raw ache between his legs.</p><p>
  <i>Oh.</i>
</p><p>He stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, heart rate picking up. <i>I had a baby.</i></p><p>
  <i>Holy <b>shit.</b></i>
</p><p>--</p><p>This work is my intellectual property. I do not give you or anyone else permission to offer my works for download.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Lance (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Meet-cute 'verse [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1107009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>145</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>'Twould Smell As Sweet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>May 2019</p><p>If I'd had any sense about me, I would have had this polished up for like... well, Father's Day I guess, which gives me an extra month, actually, but it's a pandemic outside and sensible life choices are a crapshoot at this point.</p><p>Anyway, I said in other places that I wanted to write a follow-up of sorts to "By Any Other Name" and now here we are a year later. I went into it intending it to be a short-and-sweet re: "Keith WTH why do you want her to call you 'mom' signed, the author and commenters" and it kept growing more plotweeds. Tonight I finally took an axe to a sequence that oof'd me to cut but was just bloating the fic, and pared down a few other things, and edited a few more things still. Which really only got rid of like. A couple pages. OTL</p><p>This retcons a moment from the end of BAON which I'll go back and edit... at some point. I could do it now, but cramps have me loopy and also I really need to get to bed.</p><p>I did what research I thought I needed to while I was writing this, but I maintain that I can't assert everything here is completely factual. <strike>Creative License is a wonderful thing.</strike></p><p>Please enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Keith opened his eyes to face the door out of their bedroom. His arm stretched out across the mattress, Lance's side of the bed starkly bare. He blinked. Frowned. Licked his dry lips and swallowed. His throat hurt.</p><p class="western">"Lance?" he called out. Barely more than a whisper. Squeezing his eyes shut, Keith rolled sluggishly onto his back, wincing over the throbbing pain in his abdomen, the raw ache between his legs.</p><p class="western">
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p class="western">He stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, heart rate picking up. <em> I had a baby</em>.</p><p class="western"><em> Holy </em> <em> <b>shit</b></em><em>. </em></p><p class="western">"Lance?" he tried again, a hoarse croak. Where was he? Keith couldn't get enough power behind his voice.</p><p class="western">Lance was supposed to wake him up. Had he even tried? Or could Keith just not remember?</p><p class="western">His legs were bare under the covers. He could feel the towel Lance had layered under him in case he kept bleeding through the night – which was normal, apparently. Taking a breath, Keith hauled himself onto his elbows and lifted the sheets to survey the damage. He could see where the towel was stained a dark brick color, and it looked like some blood had dried on his inner thigh; but he felt okay considering the fact he had pushed an entire human out of his body without any painkillers less than twelve hours ago.</p><p class="western">Groaning, Keith lay back down and scrubbed his face, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes until colored clouds bloomed across the darkness. What were they going to <em> do </em>? They were a couple of broke kids just starting out, and now they had an infant and a new world of unknowns ahead of them.</p><p class="western">With a sigh Keith dropped his hands, folding them across his chest as if in repose. Felt his own heartbeat. Lifted his right hand and examined the sutures down the center of his thumb with detached bewilderment. He never predicted this. Would never consider it. And now here he was – here they all were.</p><p class="western">They needed to talk.</p><p class="western">Gritting his teeth, Keith pushed himself upright, seething at the renewed ache in his belly and hips, the raw soreness between his legs. He hoped he could stand. Just sitting up sapped most of his energy and he leaned his arms on his knees after twisting his legs off the bed, breathing deeply to tamp down another moan. He felt dizzy. Closing his eyes helped. A few minutes here, and then he would try to stand.</p><p class="western">When the vertigo died away Keith looked around for something he could maybe pull off the floor to cover himself. On the bedside table he saw a glass of water with half-melted ice cubes and a straw; next to it was a small plate with crackers and peanut butter. A little note was pinned under it – <em> "Just in case. You were PTFO. ^.^' ~L" </em> Keith snorted. Just in case he was as jelly-legged as a newborn foal, he suspected. But he reached for the glass and on the first sip was pleasantly surprised to find it wasn't water, but vanilla soda. The fluids rejuvenated him more than he expected, and although he didn't feel particularly hungry right now he nibbled on a couple of the crackers, mostly because he knew Lance would ask.</p><p class="western">Did Lance manage to feed the baby at any point? A cracker to his lips, Keith looked around the room again. Pants didn't sound fun, honestly. Lance's bathrobe hung by the door. A spare towel sat on the floor by the nightstand. Keith didn't expect to bleed that much, but he would use the towel just in case. Lance didn't need to deal with that. He braced himself on the mattress with one hand and reached across to the windowsill with the other, hauling himself to his feet and whimpering a little as he found out exactly how much staying upright relied on his core strength. And then he glared at the towel on the floor. If he stooped down to grab it, he wasn't sure if he could get back up. "<em> Fuck </em> ," he grated, leaning on the sill and breathing deeply. He plucked at the chain around his neck, thumb rubbing the little gold '<em>L</em>.' Swallowed. Considered abandoning this plan because he'd broken into a sweat just standing here.</p><p class="western">Determined that he would push through it because he had refused to recover in the hospital, and Lance would convince him to go anyway if he gave reason to believe something had gone wrong.</p><p class="western">Keith found he had enough strength in his legs to squat down and pick up the clean towel, and after wrapping it around his hips he followed the wall to the other side of the room, shrugging Lance's robe over his shoulders and feeling relieved as soon as his fiance's scent enveloped him. It helped to feel a little warmer now, too. After threading his arms through the sleeves he pulled the door open, hobbling down the hallway with a little more speed when he realized he could hear Lance talking in a low voice.</p><p class="western">"...for at least the rest of this week, if I can – I have enough hours to cover it, I think? … Family emergency, yeah."</p><p class="western">Lance was sitting on the couch, phone to his ear, a baby cradled in the well between his thighs – no, <em> their </em>baby. He was playing with her, dancing her little hand around on his finger to an undefined rhythm. Keith leaned on the wall at the entrance to the room, watching them quietly. For some reason the visual made his heart twist in a bittersweet melancholy. Azure eyes darted up to him and Lance startled, stammering at the phone as he spoke his turn.</p><p class="western">"I can probably do half-days at the end of the week, afternoon would be better? … Yeah. … Yes. Uh, my…"</p><p class="western">He looked up at Keith, brow creasing. Keith tilted his head beseechingly at him and Lance turned back to their daughter. "My cousin and his partner had a baby they weren't expecting. Didn't… didn't know they were pregnant. They don't have anything so I'm kinda helping them out for at least this first week." He shrugged while the other party spoke, even though they obviously couldn't see it. "It's how we do in my family," he said, rubbing his temple with a pained smile for needing to lie. Keith toed into the room, leaning on furniture as he made his unsteady way to the couch. Lance offered his hand to brace on and Keith managed to ease himself down without his legs going out, and he rested against the couch while Lance wrapped up the call.</p><p class="western">"Babe, should you be up?" Lance murmured, brushing Keith's hair back, gently combing out the sweat-tangled strands.</p><p class="western">"Wanted to see her," Keith rasped, clearing his throat, and gazing at the infant in Lance's lap. Smile warm, Lance shifted closer to Keith so they sat exactly next to each other. "Did she eat?"</p><p class="western">"Yeah," Lance nodded, arranging the blanket under her face. "She's a really sleepy baby. I think she might have actually been a little early."</p><p class="western">"Her lungs and everything are good though, right?" Keith checked, suddenly fearful. It was always about the lungs.</p><p class="western">"That's what the medics said. But we should bring her in for a proper exam soon, anyway. Figure out her shots and stuff. It's for the best, Keith," he said when Keith stiffened next to him.</p><p class="western">"I know," Keith yielded. He would put a call in to his GP and see if she knew anyone they could rely on. He reached a trembling finger to her other hand – Adrian, they'd named her Adrian… Tiny fingers wrapped over his knuckle and her face crumpled for the swiftest moment. She didn't wake up, however, and Keith rested his head on Lance's shoulder to watch her doze, feeling misty-eyed and hoping Lance would understand if his frazzled emotional state got the better of him soon enough.</p><p class="western">After some quiet thinking, Lance laughed once through his nose, his shoulder bouncing. "I guess we know what that weird stomach flu was, now."</p><p class="western">Keith craned his neck to look at his face. His heart skipped: the past winter, around Christmas of all times, he suddenly couldn't keep anything down that was too salty or too sweet or too savory – food in general, really. The BRAT diet wasn't anything he'd had to subject himself to since he was, well, a <em> brat; </em> but it had helped him push through, and in a few weeks he seemed to turn out of that strange illness, and the episode was completely forgotten.</p><p class="western">That was almost 7 months ago. His other hand, unbidden, had found his still-tender belly. "And where those nine pounds came from."</p><p class="western">He felt Lance's smile against his hairline. "I thought you complained the other night it was eleven?"</p><p class="western">"<em>Nine</em>," Keith repeated, wrapping his forearm over his stomach, as if he was trying to hide it from Lance's view. Snickering, Lance kissed his crown and draped his arm over Keith's shoulders, careful not to jostle him. "Hunk's going to lose his shit."</p><p class="western">"I think it's safe to say <em> everyone </em> is going to," Lance agreed, gazing in awe at the infant in his lap. "I can't believe she's <em> ours</em>."</p><p class="western">"She looks like you," Keith whispered.</p><p class="western">"More like you," Lance countered, kissing him again. Privately Keith disagreed, but when Lance was all heart-eyes like that he really couldn't tell him 'no.'</p><p class="western">Adrian mewled in her sleep, mouth dropping the slightest little bit open. "She's so <em> tiny</em>," Keith lamented, frowning deep. He felt Lance watching him. "I feel like she shouldn't be this small." Guilt nauseated him.</p><p class="western">Lance squeezed his shoulder, pressing lips to his hairline. "You didn't know, Keith."</p><p class="western">"I should have."</p><p class="western">"You <em> couldn't </em> have. Neither of us had any reason to think you were pregnant."</p><p class="western">Keith shifted, chewing his lower lip. "I still could have taken better care of myself, anyway." He kept back his compulsion to apologize to her, to Lance. What if she was at a disadvantage? Wasn't low birth weight a bad thing for a lot of reasons? Shit, he needed to educate himself on baby rearing, and fast; nothing he encountered in any foster family could have prepared him for this.</p><p class="western">"You exercise, you quit smoking after I met you, and you barely drink. And I would say that between me and Hunk, the only way you could be more well-fed is if Abuela Rosa came to live with us." Keith snorted and Lance chuckled. "You can't do anything about it now, Keith. Now she's here we just gotta do the best we can on this side of things. 'Kay?" He playfully knocked Keith's knee with his when that didn't seem to lighten his mood any further. "We've got Pidge's family a few towns over, and my parents and grandparents <em> and </em> cousins on speed-dial. No one goes into this completely alone, Keith."</p><p class="western">Keith fidgeted with the sleeve of Lance's robe, jaw set. Lance guided him to lean against his chest, hand gently rubbing his arm as if trying to keep him warm. Slowly, Keith relaxed. A little sigh eased out of his chest and he fell limp along Lance's body, watching their daughter continue to sleep with tired eyes. "You're not alone in this," Lance repeated quietly, tucking a rogue strand of hair behind Keith's ear. "You were never going to be." He felt like he was starting to understand why Keith had such a visceral response to the idea of getting pregnant. Until now he had associated it with how much dysphoria it might cause, and immediately agreed not to bring it up again if it wasn't relevant.</p><p class="western">(The one time it had been, was after discovering the condom they used for a more ravenous session had torn, a mere day after the printed expiration. Afterglow plummeting into a harrowing chill, Lance had jumped to get dressed so quickly he left with his shirt inside-out, and came back three hours later with Plan B and apology chocolate. Keith, red-eyed and ashen-faced, took the first dose with a glass of wine, stared blankly at reruns of "Grey's Anatomy" for the rest of the night, and took the next dose the following morning with coffee and half of the apology chocolate broken up over his oatmeal. The rest of the chocolate disappeared later in the day, and four weeks later Keith returned from his doctor with official blood test results confirming him Not Pregnant. The celebration sex was entirely Keith's doing, and while it had been fantastic, Lance couldn't sit normally for what he could swear was a good week following and definitely got some strange looks from his coworkers the entire time. After that Keith agreed to fertility evaluations, on the grounds they do it as a couple, and with results as low as his he made Lance promise not to mention it anymore.)</p><p class="western">"It's not that," Keith murmured, fingertip resting against Adrian's cheek. Like he was afraid to really touch her. "Not exactly."</p><p class="western">"Hmm?" Lance prompted when he didn't continue right away. Keith shrugged, contemplative – no, rueful.</p><p class="western">"You know that I was abandoned." Keith took an unsteady breath; he never liked talking about this. "My mother left me behind with my dad, and then he left me a few years after that. I don't even remember his face."</p><p class="western">Lance knew this part, yes. He drew meandering curlicues over the crest of Keith's shoulder, giving him space to think and assemble his words rather than rush him to the point. And preparing to hold him tightly through his tears if that was where this ended up.</p><p class="western">"I knew a lot of cis girls who got pregnant while in the foster system," Keith said, voice thick. Adrian stirred and Lance gave her his index finger to grip. "If they couldn't get an abortion-- if they decided to keep it, some of them had the baby taken away anyway, for shitty reasons. As if they thought a teenaged girl would be able to handle everything about having an infant without fucking up once or twice." Lance's heart ached; he could see where Keith's anxieties lay here already. In a quiet, hesitant voice, as if saying it any louder would confirm it as truth, Keith admitted, "I always kind of wondered if that was where <em> I </em> came from; if my mother never even had a choice." He worried at his lip. "But then why wouldn't she try to find me again?"</p><p class="western">Family meant a lot to Lance; he didn't even have to say anything about it, he lived and breathed his love and devotion to them. When Keith came into his life, that same loyalty extended out to him and well before they ever thought about getting married, Lance as well as his parents considered him to be one of their own (and oh, how Abuela Rosa <em> loved </em> to spoil him).</p><p class="western">Keith's relationship to "family" was much more volatile; he barely understood what it meant to have unconditional love when he met Lance, and even now he sometimes had a bad night when he doubted everything they had built together. It took only one misread look or an ill-placed word to ignite his fears, and he thanked every single one of his lucky stars that Lance had the patience and understanding to wait him out when he was like this, and affirm him, and hold him while he shook and cried.</p><p class="western">"Did you ever look for her? When you aged out?"</p><p class="western">Keith didn't answer. But he dragged his thumb over Adrian's tiny hand. "She's actually kinda strong for being so small," he murmured, sounding pleased. "Feels like I should have noticed when she was kicking." Lance considered bringing up all the complaints Keith had made about "gas" over the past ten months that could not be explained by something he ate. At least, he felt like certain of his cousins had mentioned a lot about "is it gas?" versus "is it the baby?" when they were pregnant. But, having never endured a pregnancy – cognizant of it or not – Lance figured the wisest thing to do was to not mention anything at all. No doubt Keith was already tracking back over the last year for times when he should have realized he'd taken on a plus-one.</p><p class="western">"Anyway, all I could think about when I saw another girl who got pregnant and couldn't keep the baby, was the cycle that got us all there repeating itself – whatever the fucking social workers said. And I didn't want to be a part of it if I could avoid it." He let the thought hang. Lance resumed his gentle strokes over Keith's arm and Keith watched their daughter continue to doze.</p><p class="western">"I didn't want to ask, but…" Lance led, as something in Keith's bitterness tipped a horrified thought into place.</p><p class="western">Keith didn't huff or snarl; he just looked distant again. "I had a couple close calls." He craned his neck to look up at Lance. "Thank you, by the way, for using the condom size that fits even if it doesn't say some dumb hyper-masculine shit like 'titan-sized' on it." His lips pulled to the side, not exactly a smirk; his eyes were too low for that. "Come to think of it, thank you for always using a condom, regardless. You might have had to wed me a lot sooner, for the sake of my honor."</p><p class="western">"I'm sorry that happened to you," Lance said when Keith's eyes became glassy, tucking the other's head under his chin. Keith didn't make flippant remarks like that if he wasn't upset. Trying to play it off already, Keith shrugged a shoulder with a dismissive sound.</p><p class="western">"Keith."</p><p class="western">"Let me pretend I'm over it, for a minute."</p><p class="western">Lance smoothed Keith's hair back. Fought to quell the rage broiling up that anyone had <em><b>ever</b></em> <em>dared</em>--</p><p class="western">Adrian cooed again in her sleep and gave a languid shake of her little baby head, and her dark blue baby eyes slitted open. Keith suppressed his awed gasp but Lance of course was close enough to hear it, feel Keith's wonder radiate through his body.</p><p class="western">"Oh my god, <em> hi </em>," Keith whispered, voice cracking as he gazed transfixed at this little living being he'd made. If Lance teared up a little at the sheer adoration in Keith's voice, Keith never knew about it. The only other time he'd heard Keith sound like that was the night Lance proposed. "Hey, I'm your…" The title wouldn't come.</p><p class="western">Lance squeezed Keith in a one-armed hug as his words faltered. "Second thoughts?" Keith had seemed pretty sure last night that Adrian needed a "mother," and what better candidate than he who gave birth to her; now he sounded a lot less certain. And if Lance felt like saying it out loud, he'd had his own doubts that Keith would stick with the decision. Call it hormones or whatever; Keith went through hell and back yesterday, and Lance had figured in the moment that Keith deserved to call himself whatever he wanted.</p><p class="western">It took a few moments of thought before Keith said anything. "When I was little," he began slowly, second-guessing his reasoning even as he spoke, "A lot of other kids bullied me for not having a real mom. Or a real dad, I guess, but at least I could say I'd known him." He sighed, shaking his head at himself as he found the holes in his logic. "Kids are mean. I just want her to have a normal life and fit in."</p><p class="western">Lance pieced the rest of it together. "And you feel like her life would be better if she had a mom and a dad to talk about, instead of two dads?"</p><p class="western">Tense silence, and then, unconvinced, "Yeah."</p><p class="western">"She would have to misgender you, for it to work."</p><p class="western">"I know," Keith said, leaning more heavily against Lance, sighing in something like defeat. Lance was thinking ahead to parents' nights and play dates, never mind registering her for schools as, clearly, two men. <em> Maybe </em> they could get away with suggesting that the "mother" she talked about was a sister who had left or died, but he feared that would only cause more confusion. And besides, even with otherwise generic infant features it was already pretty damn obvious who made up Adrian's parentage; they would fool no one.</p><p class="western">Perhaps Keith had found himself wandering the same mental track, because at length he admitted, "I'm not sure, anymore."</p><p class="western">Bumping their knees again encouragingly, Lance forced some lightness into his voice. "If you had to choose, then – if you were a dad – what would you want her to call you?" Keith reached forward; now that Adrian was awake, he realized he <em> needed </em> to hold her again, bond with her, <em> something</em>; this was the first he'd seen her eyes open since giving birth to her. Lance angled his knees up for the transfer, shifting her into Keith's cradling arms so he wouldn't have to move too much. Once settled, Keith seemed a little more content. Lance pulled down the fleece throw from the back of the couch and draped it over their legs; despite the summer heat outside, Keith was shivering a little in just Lance's bathrobe. Keith never said a word, transfixed on the infant he held against his chest like she was the reason he breathed.</p><p class="western">"You don't have to decide right now, I guess," Lance said sheepishly, acknowledging he might have led Keith into a corner. "It's not like she'll be talking any time soon." But it would be before either of them expected it, he left unsaid. "Are you hungry? Can I get you anything to eat, or drink?"</p><p class="western">Keith had a feeling Lance would insist he eat something no matter what he said ("You barely ate a thing yesterday, AND you just gave birth to an entire human, <em> never mind </em> you barely eat enough for one human, let alone <em> <b>two</b></em>!" he could imagine him protesting, with an indulgent smile he wouldn't explain), so he nodded, most of his attention locked on the infant in his arms. Lance knew what he liked by now, and quick as that he was left alone with Adrian, the sounds of Lance fussing around in the kitchen drifting in via the passthrough. Soon there were sounds of mixing, of unwrapping plastic packaging, the smell of bacon frying up.</p><p class="western">Keith had to grin to himself; the first time he'd spent the night at Lance's apartment, Lance had made him bacon and eggs for the morning after. And while it wasn't exactly a special-occasion sort of breakfast, Lance had made a point of fixing it again for when they moved in together, and the first morning they'd woken up newly engaged. It was one of those little things Lance did that made Keith feel like their time together mattered to him – and it obviously did, if said engagement was anything at all to go by. He just liked having the reinforcement.</p><p class="western">"Hey," he said quietly to the baby – <em> his </em> baby, holy <em> shit </em> – when she murmured and her eyes roamed his face. They were so dark blue, almost indigo. Her peachfuzz hair looked more brown than tawny in this lighting, although there was so little of it the only reason he could tell its color was because her skin was so fair.</p><p class="western">"You should try to look a little more like your dad," he reiterated, "He's the cute one."</p><p class="western">"I heard that!" Lance shouted cheekily from the kitchen. Keith rolled his eyes. "And, <em> you </em> are the cute one!"</p><p class="western">Keith blushed and said nothing to refute it. If anyone asked, he would say that it was completely impossible to feel cute a mere twelve hours after pushing an infant out without any medical intervention to ease the way. Not to mention he could feel he was still bleeding, the towel he'd wrapped around his waist starting to feel damp under him…</p><p class="western">"Hey, Lance?" he called when he saw him plating food in the passthrough.</p><p class="western">"Yeah, babe?" Lance answered, turning away briefly to fill two glasses of water.</p><p class="western">Keith shifted, grimacing when his thighs seemed to be swimming. "Could you bring a towel over, too?"</p><p class="western">Lance peeked his head around, staring at Keith. Bright red, trying to sit without actually <em> sitting </em> and looking distinctly uncomfortable and a little bit squeamish.</p><p class="western">"...Oh. Gotcha. Just a second."</p><p class="western">They exchanged baby for towel, and while the plates of breakfast cooled Keith went into the bathroom and tossed the soiled linen into the tub after using the cleaner parts to wipe off his legs. Lance waited outside with Adrian to his chest, ready to help if Keith still felt a little unsteady on his feet but giving him privacy to sort himself out. Thankfully, Keith hadn't bled through to Lance's robe yet, and that knowledge alone did a lot to help him feel better about the situation. He still couldn't help the beet-red color to his face when he stepped back out, averting his gaze.</p><p class="western">"You good?" Lance checked.</p><p class="western">Keith hugged himself, curling in a little. "Sorry."</p><p class="western">Wordlessly Lance cupped his cheek and laid a gentle kiss on his forehead. "It's okay, Keith."</p><p class="western">Keith shifted uncomfortably again, legs pressed together as if he could keep anything from continuing to leak out. "It sucks."</p><p class="western">Lance's hand threaded through the hair at the back of his head. "I know, baby." He pursed his lip. "If you want, I can get you some overnight pads, or something. Would that help?"</p><p class="western">Keith's hand found his belly as if he'd only now realized he was essentially having a long-overdue period, shedding the rest of the uterine lining and <em> stuff </em> that hadn't made it out during the birth. Not to mention any other tearing along the way…</p><p class="western">"That'd probably be better than ruining all of our towels…" He looked listlessly over his shoulder into the bathroom, toward the cabinet under the sink where they kept a stock of pads already. None with overnight-level coverage, but a maxi would probably cut it until Lance could get to the grocery store. He grimaced again, at the thought of trying to wear pants or even underwear of any kind. In case anyone had forgotten, he'd had <em> zero </em> medical help with delivering last night, and today he fucking <em> hurt </em>.</p><p class="western">"Come on, breakfast is getting cold," Lance coaxed him, guiding Keith with a hand to his back while he easily balanced Adrian in the other arm.</p><p class="western">They ate quietly, taking turns securing the baby in arms or laps, and Keith found he now felt absolutely <em> starving </em>. He cleared his plate before Lance could hardly blink, and spent the next few minutes staring guiltily at the empty dish and avoiding Lance's eyes again. "I can make you more," Lance offered.</p><p class="western">"It's fine," Keith said quickly, fingers curling in the edge of the couch cushion. He didn't notice Lance had gotten up until he clattered a plate of bacon on the coffee table – claiming he'd made too much without noticing in the first place and it'd be a shame to let it get go to waste. Of course Keith saw right through him, but after Lance took a spare piece to get him through the rest of his eggs, Keith had little issue with munching on the crispier strips to soothe his continuing hunger.</p><p class="western">When Adrian started whimpering a few minutes later, Lance offered her to Keith. "She might be hungry. Do you want to try feeding her?"</p><p class="western">Awestruck, Keith nodded and gathered her against him, leaning back on the couch and making sure she lay secure in his arms. God, it was a monumental effort to move today, and every second of it hurt; but when he looked at her tiny face and her big crossed eyes everything seemed to fade away into the background until all he felt aware of was her. Keith barely noticed when Lance returned a few minutes later, a newborn-sized bottle in hand and at exactly the right temperature. Fingers trembling, Keith accepted the bottle and let Lance adjust the positioning of his arm and elbow so Adrian would be able to feed easily.</p><p class="western">She latched onto the rubber nipple like it was the most natural thing, and the way Keith's heart swelled at the sight he might have believed he was nourishing her with his own body even now, no differently than when she was growing inside of him.</p><p class="western">"That's amazing," Lance breathed as he sat down on the adjacent cushion, sounding pleased. Keith glanced over at him before returning his focus to Adrian. "I could barely get her to eat anything and with you she just--" he made a grasping gesture with his fingers, a little tongue click to accompany it, "Just like nothin'."</p><p class="western">And while Keith might not have admitted it out loud, he did feel rather proud that his daughter seemed inclined to cooperate with him. "You might have to be the one to feed her from now on," Lance observed, watching as she seemed to nearly finish the contents of the bottle – which was not much, of course, seeing as she was only tiny; but the fact she was tiny meant that putting weight on her became all the more imperative.</p><p class="western">"Does this mean she likes me?" Keith wondered aloud, voicing an intrusive thought. Lance gave him an adoring smile and leaned sideways against the couch, one leg up and crossed over in front of him.</p><p class="western">"I think you could say that," he agreed. "She knows you better, for sure." His smell, his warmth, the sound of his voice – that made sense. Lance was just a voice that suddenly sounded a lot closer.</p><p class="western">The bottle was a few drops shy of empty before Adrian turned away, giving a little silent yawn and closing her eyes to sleep again. Lance took the bottle from Keith's hovering hand and placed it on the coffee table, before leaning on the couch again and watching them both with a wondering glow in his eyes. Keith readjusted his arms, shifting Adrian so she lay a little more parallel with his body, her head close enough to tuck under his chin – he'd picked that up from Lance, and his lip turned up when he noticed Lance's quiet mental freakout.</p><p class="western">Before long, his eyelids began to droop as well, and Lance was draped next to him on the couch, helping secure the baby in place. "Tired, babe?" he checked, noticing how Keith's head started to nod forward. "I can watch her if you wanna go back to bed."</p><p class="western">"I'm okay," Keith said stubbornly, forcing his eyes open and his head up. But in seconds he was wilting again, not having slept nearly enough to recover from the previous day.</p><p class="western">"How about," Lance suggested, gently easing the infant out of Keith's stubborn arms, "I hold her, but you can lay down on the couch if you don't want to walk all the way back down the hall. Seem fair?"</p><p class="western">Keith was already falling toward the other side, pulling the throw pillow under his head rather than scoot up the couch to reach it – fuck moving more than he absolutely had to – and a weary sigh signaled his concession. "That will do, I guess." In a few minutes Lance had pulled up Netflix and selected some baking show or other, and while Keith did his best to stay awake at least through the first challenge in the episode, the next time he blinked he saw that the sun had changed position and the number of contestants had dropped from eight to five. Lance was seated on the floor at his head, trying to get Adrian to take another bottle.</p><p class="western">Keith shifted, making the sofa creak a little, and Lance craned his neck over. "Hey," he said, voice raspy again. His hand crawled forward on the cushion, and Lance leaned over to kiss the knuckles.</p><p class="western">"Hey, man," he said quietly.</p><p class="western">"What time is it?"</p><p class="western">"Hm. Noon-ish."</p><p class="western">Keith thought about pushing up to sitting, but instead he drew his hand back and pushed it through the mess his fringe had become. He tried to comb out the worst of it, but accepted that sooner rather than later he would need to somehow manage to get a shower. Even though he had given birth in a full bathtub the previous day, the brief rinse Lance had managed to help him with after was not enough to really dent the feeling of griminess he had from struggling through a full day of labor and the mess of delivery. The post-partum rinse had been mainly so he wouldn't get blood everywhere on the way back to their bed, and not meant as a deep clean.</p><p class="western">"Can I get you anything?"</p><p class="western">Bless Lance. "Water?" Lance turned as he rolled to his knees, sweeping Keith's fringe back to plant a kiss on his forehead before he walked into the kitchen. He came back with a tall, filled glass of water complete with a straw so Keith wouldn't have to sit up. He watched while Keith took the first few sips, managing to raise himself onto his elbow to drink. Looking anxious, Lance carded his hands through his hair, scratching the back of his neck.</p><p class="western">"Do you feel okay?" Lance asked when Keith noticed him staring and raised an eyebrow. "I just… I don't know, I feel like you look a little pale."</p><p class="western">Letting go of the straw, Keith pulled his lips in and averted his gaze, evaluating the signals his body was giving him. All things considered – well, actually, he had no frame of reference for how one's body should feel after having a baby. As far as he was concerned, he <em> should </em> be uncomfortable and maybe even feel a bit sick, from the exhaustive effort if nothing else. Lance's lukewarm palm smoothed over his forehead, before two fingers checked the side of his neck. Keith remembered that Lance thought he had a fever the previous day; Keith had chalked it up to stress from the pain. Even now Lance murmured that he still felt a bit warm. "Maybe we make an appointment for you, too, while we're at it," he said softly, picking up their earlier thread about scheduling a checkup for Adrian. And while Keith's first instinct was always to tough out any illness so long as he didn't seem to be actively dying, the concern was written so deeply in the lines of Lance's face that he clearly knew something Keith did not; he just uttered a noncommittal grunt in response and Lance brushed his fringe back again. That would be fine, anyway; Keith needed to update his GP with such an important change in his physical condition, and she would likely call him in for an examination on principle. He trusted her enough to let her look him over, although he hoped that nothing was serious enough to necessitate hospitalization. If he was going to be bed-bound and obnoxiously attended to, he'd rather carry it out at home where his needs were met with bonus kisses from the man he loved.</p><p class="western">"Could you bring me my phone?" he asked at last, caving under the pressure of Lance's worry. Nodding, Lance scanned around the room, retracing where he had last seen the primary-red and black phone case and bringing it over in seconds. Keith shifted higher up, leaning against the arm rest with his knees drawn up to soothe the aching in his belly. He scrolled through his contacts, pulling up the personal number of his GP – a rapport they had established since the beginning of his transition prompting her to give him 24-hour contact with her in case anything at all happened that needed discreet medical help. This seemed like one of those times; obviously her office had it on record that he was trans, but he did not want to deal with a middleman more than he needed to.</p><p class="western">When the line rang three or four times with no interruption, Keith considered chickening out – but then it picked up and Dr. Sophie's voice chirped through. "Hello, this is Sophie!"</p><p class="western">Keith suppressed a smile; of course Sophie had caller ID and knew it was him. "Hey, Doc, it's Keith." At the coffee table, Lance grinned for him; he liked to tease Keith about how his voice changed when he spoke on the phone – said it was the one time Keith still tried to force his voice lower than his natural speaking range, even though it had cracked long enough ago that there was no need to worry anymore.</p><p class="western">"How are you doing?" she was saying, "What's up?" Her tone was cheerful enough but Keith knew that she knew, he wouldn't have called if it wasn't something pretty major.</p><p class="western">"You're, uh," Keith hesitated, heart racing, the enormity of what he was about to tell her hitting him all at once, "You're never gonna believe this…"</p><p class="western">"What happened, dear?" Sophie had grown up in the Midwest, and for some reason she seemed to consider him one of her kids rather than merely a patient; her natural mannerisms bled through when she was getting ready to 'mom' him intensely.</p><p class="western">"Uh…" Keith fiddled with a loose thread on Lance's robe, heart in his throat. Lance nodded encouragingly when he glanced over with wide eyes, feeling about to cry again. He reached over and took his fidgeting hand, squeezing his fingers and lacing them together. "Well," he said, voice thick as tears welled up anyway – Fear? Joy? Embarrassment? He couldn't tell. "I…"</p><p class="western">"Sweetheart, are you okay?" Sophie sounded actually worried; his heart twisted. He needed to just <em> say it </em>.</p><p class="western">"Sophie, I-- I had a <em> baby. </em>"</p><p class="western">The first tears slipped down and Lance sat on the edge of the couch next to him now, looking ready to pull Keith into his lap if he completely lost it. For now he still held Keith's other hand, stroking his thumb over the white knuckles and kissing them when Keith shuddered with overwhelming emotion.</p><p class="western">"Oh--! Oh my <em> goodness</em>."</p><p class="western">A wet hysterical giggle burst out of Keith's mouth and he pulled his hand out of Lance's to scrub his tears away, but more fell in their place. Adrian was right in front of him, too, physical proof of his claim. Dr. Sophie was talking to him.</p><p class="western">"I don't-- did we even know you were pregnant?" She meant her practice, if they had any such notes in Keith's file. The last they had on the matter was the tests after his pregnancy scare: one to confirm he wasn't carrying, one to evaluate whether he could. Keith sniffled and hiccuped, the admission to someone other than himself and Lance throwing his grip on composure and reducing him to a panicked and weeping mess. Lance gently pried the phone from his hands and hit the button for speaker, holding the phone level between them.</p><p class="western">"Hi, Doc, it's Lance, on speaker. Keith's, ah… Keith's partner?" he said in his most endearing voice, loud enough to try to cover the sounds of Keith's crying.</p><p class="western">"Oh, of <em> course</em>; Keith's told me all about you, dear," Sophie enthused, her accent thick and kind. Lance couldn't help the broad grin on his face even as his fiance fell apart beside him. Of course Keith would like her. "Did you know Keith was…?"</p><p class="western">"No, no, we didn't. Had no idea until about half an hour before she was born," Lance said, falling easily into conversation with her while Keith pieced himself together. His fingers were curled in the fabric of Lance's shirt sleeve, dark eyes fixed on their daughter.</p><p class="western">"A little girl, even? Oh, congratulations, you two!" There were sounds from the other line that might have been a chair pushing back, and then the rustle of fabric and her breathing; she might have been on her lunch break and was now returning to her office to take notes.</p><p class="western">"Yeah, she's beautiful. She looks just like Keith," Lance gushed, turning his most loving gaze onto the man next to him.</p><p class="western">"Oh, well then she's got to be the <em> cutest </em> little thing," Sophie said, the sound now of drawers opening coming through the line. "Keith, honey, are you still there?"</p><p class="western">Keith cleared his throat, startled. "Yeah, sorry, I just…" His voice still cracked over his efforts not to cry, and he could just tell that Dr. Sophie was nodding her head sympathetically on the other end.</p><p class="western">"It's a lot to take in, isn't it? Especially when you didn't even know in the first place, I imagine." Keith chewed his lip, fingers tightening on Lance's shirt. "So, I'm gonna guess you want to set up a neonatal-slash-post-partum examination? I can get you in this afternoon or tomorrow morning."</p><p class="western">"That soon?" Keith checked; Lance tilted his head, equally impressed.</p><p class="western">"If you feel up to it. When was she born?"</p><p class="western">Shit, Keith had no idea. The previous day was an entire blur. He looked over to Lance. His forehead creased as he too struggled to remember.</p><p class="western">"I would say… around 3:30 or so, yesterday?"</p><p class="western">"<em> Afternoon</em>?" Sophie checked, sounding flabbergasted. Lance barked a laugh.</p><p class="western">"We only just got engaged, too; I guess you could say we don't waste any time!"</p><p class="western">"Lance," Keith stressed, brow furrowed.</p><p class="western">"You get one 'congratulations' per phone call, I'm afraid," Dr. Sophie tried to sound stern, but one could hear the pride in her voice. She had known Keith through his ups and downs since he started his transition, and as she thought of him like a son, naturally she would be elated to know Keith had found some happiness with someone he loved. She mumbled the date and time to herself under her breath, and then continued down a checklist of neonatal conditions for Adrian that Lance answered to the best of his ability, having been the most lucid for her short life thus far.</p><p class="western">"And Keith, what about you, dear?" Lance handed the phone back to him, letting him answer the standard but frankly personal questions about how his body – how specific parts of his body – felt, and about his appetite, how sore he felt overall, about post-partum bleeding.</p><p class="western">"That all sounds about normal, but I would still like to get you in for a checkup. Anything else I should know?"</p><p class="western">Lance had been quietly watching, scrutinizing even, but now it was clear Keith wouldn't mention it himself, he butted in, "he's had a slight fever since yesterday."</p><p class="western">"<em>Lance</em>," Keith groaned, hand over his eyes to massage his temples, even though the fever had been the impetus to make the call in the first place.</p><p class="western">"How high of a fever?"</p><p class="western">"I don't think we've checked it," Lance admitted, glancing at Keith for him to either confirm or deny. "I don't think it's that high, but he's definitely warm."</p><p class="western">"And that started yesterday? Along with labor?"</p><p class="western">"As far as I know, yeah."</p><p class="western">"I feel fine," Keith put in, just to be contrary.</p><p class="western">Sophie huffed over the line, a crackling through the phone speaker. She was well used to his stubborn streak. "All the same, dear, I'd like to have you in. If you can make it in this afternoon it would set my mind at ease, but I also understand if things hurt a little too much right now. Are you doing anything to manage the pain?"</p><p class="western">"Not really," Keith admitted, reflecting that, as he couldn't nurse, there wasn't really a reason for him to avoid downing some painkillers as far as he knew.</p><p class="western">"He hasn't asked for anything," Lance supplemented, "Is there something he can take? We have ibuprofen…"</p><p class="western">"That should be fine. You're not able to, how do you say, chest-feed, correct?" She moved on without making clear if she was checking the phrasing or the facts. "No harm in taking ibuprofen, or Tylenol, if you have that around. In fact I would recommend that, as well as an ice pack if sitting on anything else is torture right now."</p><p class="western">Keith flushed and Lance had the self-awareness to look away from any accusatory glare the former might throw his way – what with him being the root cause of Keith's physical discomfort right now.</p><p class="western">"So," Keith coughed to change the subject, "if we were going in today, what times do you have available?"</p><p class="western">Their conversation faded while Lance gazed down at the infant balanced in his arm. He had a feeling he was about to get a much more detailed experience of what it really meant to father a child, and the fact that Keith had minimized his own discomfort and pain so far didn't sit well with him. But he wished he could at least say he'd tried his best so far to be an attentive partner, to be sensitive to Keith's needs even if Keith wouldn't voice all of them himself…</p><p class="western">He didn't hear them wrap up the conversation, but suddenly Keith was silent and Lance felt his dark eyes watching him. Without looking up from Adrian, he asked in a quiet voice, "So. Do you want an ice pack? Or painkillers? Or anything like that?"</p><p class="western">Keith didn't answer right away; something in Lance's tone alerted him that he did something wrong. He'd tried not to be demanding, not to ask for anything more than Lance offered. If he had been in the habit of asking Lance to fix every single thing that he wanted, Lance would have left out of sheer frustration a long time ago. The blue eyes that slid over to him were no longer bright, but distant. Like he was accusing him of something but couldn't say the words aloud.</p><p class="western">A chill ran down Keith's spine. He gripped his phone in his hands, nails digging into the silicon case. Stared wide-eyed at Lance, waiting for him to tell him what was the matter. What he did wrong, how could he fix it. "Lance?" he dared squeak, drawing his limbs in tighter, shrinking himself down even though it hurt to curl any smaller.</p><p class="western">Lance shook his head, covering his eyes with his hand. Jaw working, he scrubbed his face and sat up, leaning softly against Keith's updrawn leg. So he wasn't <em> mad </em> . But he was <em> something </em> . "You told me when you thought it was just cramps. And you told me a long time ago about how you used to get headaches, and how you could barely eat." His eyes opened, staring at the ceiling. "And today, you told me how you decided you would never get pregnant, if you could spare a child that never existed from a life of feeling unwanted." He rolled his head over to look at Keith. He looked-- not sad, not really even disappointed; just <em> defeated </em> . "Keith," he pressed when Keith tried to avert his gaze – he couldn't bear seeing the man he loved looking at him like that – " <em> I did this </em>to you." And Lance wasn't only talking about making him a-- a parent. Labor certainly wasn't a cakewalk, and sure Keith had avoided the "telling" affects on his body like stretch marks and loose skin through sheer luck of the draw, but he could still suffer postpartum depression, ongoing back pain, hip pain, sex might even feel different for him now; all things that as a dude he really shouldn't have to deal with. He could come to resent Lance for it, and honestly, who could have blamed him?</p><p class="western">"You did all the heavy lifting bringing her here," Lance said, both their eyes drifting to Adrian before tentatively meeting again. "Let me take care of you?" Let him do everything he would have done if they had known, and more? "I can't do that if you keep everything to yourself."</p><p class="western">"I don't want to be a burden," Keith whispered, averting his gaze, "We have enough on our plate right now." His eyes didn't change from their fixation on his lap but it was obvious he meant Adrian.</p><p class="western">Lance rested his cheek on Keith's knee, when he made sure that it didn't hurt him to do so. "Let me decide on that. I want you to be well," Lance said emphatically, eyes misting as he remembered-- the discomfort Keith had described in his body, the aches, the soreness, how it hurt even to breathe at times. The lingering nausea, the cramping as his uterus expelled the last reminders of their daughter's time spent inside. All the things Keith had neglected to mention until he had to answer to his doctor, for how many times Lance had asked already today if there was anything he could do to help. For every time during his pregnancy he might have raised a complaint, and said nothing. "You're not a burden, dummy; you're my <em> corazon</em>. Let me take care of you when you're sick, just like I always do, okay?"</p><p class="western">Keith frowned. "I'm not sick." Fever be damned, he wasn't throwing up, or even <em> that </em> dizzy when he stood; he wasn't <em> sick </em>.</p><p class="western">"Please, Keith. Nothing is too much to ask, right?"</p><p class="western">They'd had this conversation so many times, beginning from when they first started getting serious and Keith had to come out to him before they could progress their relationship any further. "Nothing is too much to ask" may have started as a reminder that Keith could ask for the lights off, or that they just use toys, or that Lance only take him in the back; it had naturally evolved to include anything that Keith needed from him, whether it was in the bedroom or not.</p><p class="western">"I still feel like it would be," Keith said quietly, daring to meet Lance's gaze with watery eyes. Huffing, Lance kissed his knee, rubbing a hand down his shin.</p><p class="western">"How about <em> I </em> get pregnant next time, and then you can return the favor?"</p><p class="western">Keith snorted tiredly. "That's not how it works."</p><p class="western">"But I got you to smile. So, would you like an ice pack, and ibuprofen?"</p><p class="western">Keith fixed him with a discerning stare, worried if this was Lance trying to guilt trip him, now. And maybe, honestly, it was. Lance seemed ashamed of himself for even doing it, when he caught on that Keith saw right through him.</p><p class="western">"Just let me do this one thing for you, so you're not hurting anymore," he breathed, "After this I'm <em> only </em> doing something if you ask for it, okay?"</p><p class="western">Lips pressed together, Keith nodded, ceding the point if it would erase that despondent look from Lance's face. It seemed to do that, a bit, and Lance left the baby with Keith while he went into the kitchen again to fix up the cold pack and dig out a dose of ibuprofen. Adrian stirred while Keith situated her mostly upright against his thighs, his phone balanced on his belly where he'd dropped it. Her eyes opened and she blinked owl-like at him, eyes just a little bit crossed. Keith hoped that wouldn't be permanent. Her eyes were not quite as dark as his, now that he looked right at them. She mewled, her fussing sounds much like a disgruntled kitten, and Keith leaned her down onto his chest. Her little body felt so warm, more than he would have believed if he didn't have her right here.</p><p class="western">"It's okay," he murmured when she continued to whimper, gently laying a hand across her back. He dared press a soft kiss to her downy head, as if she might understand that gesture and take comfort from it.</p><p class="western">"Could I ask to do one more thing, actually?" Lance said as he came back into the room, two brick-colored pills in one hand and a cold pack wrapped in a bar towel in the other. Keith's eyes slid up to him. "Let me take your temperature? Just so we know where we're at right now?"</p><p class="western">Sophie would take his temperature when they went in later today anyway; Lance would spend the entire time up to then fretting if he didn't have an answer now, so Keith nodded and after transferring the pain meds to Keith's palm, Lance disappeared into the bathroom and returned with the thermometer.</p><p class="western">Keith's temperature clocked in at 99.2, nothing to really worry about yet but enough that Lance felt doubly relieved that Keith made the appointment for the afternoon rather than wait until the next morning. At least at the doctor's office they could take some culture swabs, check him over in more detail. Keith would rather insist it was only a cold, but the timing of it didn't sit well with Lance or his doctor, so he would just have to forbear. After insisting he felt okay otherwise, there was no need to rush him to the emergency room ahead of the wellness check with his GP, Keith finally convinced Lance that he could let his sense of panic subside and go back to experiencing the day – here, with Keith, and their baby, and with the house to themselves before they needed to tell anyone else and have all hell break loose.</p><p class="western">–</p><p class="western">Keith proposed stopping somewhere to pick up a few basic things – stroller, car seat, crib – on the way back from the doctor's, but he was nodding where he sat and Lance insisted on taking him home first. He could go back out later in the day, when Keith had taken a nap and was awake enough to watch Adrian for a few hours while Lance was shopping.</p><p class="western">Keith frowned deeply at the idea of Lance going out without them – Lance didn't have to insist it was easiest this way, after all Keith could barely walk from the car to the clinic's doors, let alone around a department store; but he did, and promised that he wouldn't be gone long when he made the trip out for the barest necessities.</p><p class="western">Adrian was only brand-new; they didn't need to buy a whole boutique's worth of baby things right away. And to Keith that made sense – hell, even as an adult he didn't own that much – so he agreed to the plan, mostly so Lance would let him go to fucking sleep already rather than continue spouting reasons to do things his way.</p><p class="western">True to plan, Lance left for baby shopping soon after Keith woke up from a coma-like nap on the couch, and when he came back two hours later not only did he have baby clothes, a crib, car seat, rocker, <em>and</em> stroller – he'd brought home Chinese takeout.</p><p class="western">Keith nearly tipped over onto his side, overwhelmed by how much he loved this boy he'd decided he would marry. He grinned up at Lance, already salivating, and it was all he could do to stop himself from eating fried rice directly out of the container before Lance plated it.</p><p class="western">"Glad I went with the 'family combo,'" Lance mused when Keith cleared his plate in what could only have been minutes, setting it down with a suppressed hiccuping burp that made him turn red.</p><p class="western">"Sophie said I needed to get my weight back up, right?" Keith excused himself, leaning back to rest while he thought about whether he wanted a second serving – there was certainly plenty food for him to do so.</p><p class="western">"Well, don't push yourself," Lance placated him, "It's no good if you make yourself sick."</p><p class="western">"Yeah, yeah," Keith dismissed, watching Adrian doze in her new bassinet. "Do you think she's hungry?"</p><p class="western">"Maybe. You wanna try to feed her?"</p><p class="western">Keith didn't respond right away – he felt like she needed to sleep, but he also worried about how tiny she was. "If she doesn't wake up in the next few minutes, yeah," he decided. In the meantime he was content to pick at some more sweet-and-sour pork while Lance showed him some of the baby hats and onesies he'd been unable to resist. "That's a lot of purple," Keith commented lightly when he noticed the theme. Lance blushed.</p><p class="western">"I just thought it'd be cute," he explained, stammering. Anyone who knew them for a second knew that red and blue dominated their wardrobes; of course they might go with shades of violet for Adrian if they were eschewing the usual baby pink. "If you prefer something else--"</p><p class="western">"It's fine. It is cute," Keith agreed, chuckling a little at how flustered Lance got over it. Honestly, he adored Lance for taking the extra consideration. Of course they had never discussed color themes for any children that might happen; maybe Lance had thought twice, or maybe he'd thought it such an obvious choice he never considered they ought to go with pink, but in the end he came home with a non-traditional color and Keith loved him for it. Lance excelled at affirming his identity, and while this wasn't literally for him, it just added another layer to how deeply Lance's dedication ran for him.</p><p class="western">Lance grinned broadly now, unpacking the rest of the things he bought and showing them to Keith, including a soft lavender hippo almost bigger than Adrian herself. Keith glowed at him. "I might just steal that for myself," he teased, feeling the plushness of the material.</p><p class="western">"It's for Adrian," Lance insisted with feigned stubbornness, knowing he also couldn't stop Keith if he wanted to. There were a few more plushes and soft toys, a multitude of tiny socks, and almost as an afterthought, a "Baby's First…" sort of journal that happened to be bright red. "This one I got for you, if you want it."</p><p class="western">Keith took it and opened it over his knees, turning thoughtfully through the pages at the various pre-filled headings – first lock of hair, first smile, first food. He frowned at the page for sonograms, a strange regret twisting his stomach.</p><p class="western">"What's up?"</p><p class="western">Keith held the book out, showing him. Lance touched the page with a light finger, brow creasing. "I guess I didn't look very closely…" He watched Keith with bated breath, waiting for some indication if he needed to take it away.</p><p class="western">Keith brought it back to his lap, mouth pulled to the side. "I feel like we missed out on a lot."</p><p class="western">Lance was moving some of his purchases back into the shopping bags for transport. "Not the important bits," he reassured him.</p><p class="western">Keith shrugged, still feeling guilty. "I don't know, I guess I've seen too many friends announcing their pregnancies with sonogram pictures."</p><p class="western">"Would you have wanted to announce it?"</p><p class="western">"That's not the point," Keith objected, shaking his head.</p><p class="western">"Then what is it, <em>amorcito</em>?"</p><p class="western">Sighing, Keith closed the book, smoothing his hand over the cover. It was a thoughtful gift, really. A silly thing, but Lance knew how little Keith had from his early childhood; if Keith had a record of even his first year, maybe he would have a little more closure about his past. If his parents had even cared. And while he would fight tooth and nail anyone who tried to take Adrian away from him, he couldn't fool himself that shitty things never happened; if he could leave something of these next years for Adrian to keep, he would...</p><p class="western">"Just…" he hesitated. Lance tilted his head, waiting for him to gather his thoughts. Keith continued, uncertain, doubting he even made sense. "I feel like… It doesn't count, if we can't fill every page. And then what if she feels like she wasn't entirely wanted?"</p><p class="western">"She <em>is</em> wanted," Lance cut in.</p><p class="western">"She is," Keith affirmed, rubbing his thumb over a corner of the book cover. "But she wasn't planned for. And I would just worry that…" Tears welled in his eyes and his throat closed as his voice cracked.</p><p class="western">"...That she would think it's the same as not being wanted?" Lance hazarded a guess. Keith nodded, face flushed with shame that he would project something like that onto his own daughter. Lance dug into his pocket and pulled out the pen he always carried with him, for jotting notes like song lyrics he liked and signing receipts. He reached it over to Keith.</p><p class="western">"Write something on those pages," he suggested quietly, holding his hand out until Keith accepted the navy blue pen. It looked as shining and pristine as the day he gave it to Lance for his birthday.</p><p class="western">"What should I write?" Keith blinked at him, pen suspended in the air as his tumultuous thoughts shorted out – he wouldn't have considered this alternative.</p><p class="western">Lance shrugged, face relaxed. "Anything you want. Explain why the pages are empty. Tell her you loved her from the moment you knew about her, even though that moment didn't happen until she was already born."</p><p class="western">
  <em>(Anything he needed all his life to hear from his birth parents.)</em>
</p><p class="western">Keith didn't have the way with words that Lance had, but he opened the book again to the problem pages and thought hard, gently mouthing the top of the pen. At length he scribbled a few things down for the moment, intending to return to the pages later when he had more space and privacy with his thoughts, and finding that some of his guilt had abated he put the book aside, hesitantly returning the pen to Lance. While he wasn't done, he already felt a little better, and his smile at Lance was a little easier when the other chattered away about whatever struck his fancy, things at work or something Hunk said when they were back in school.</p><p class="western">"We should tell him," Keith interjected, realizing that he would have followed up with Lance about Keith's condition from yesterday, and Lance hadn't said a thing about it.</p><p class="western">"Now?" Lance checked, raising an eyebrow.</p><p class="western">Shrugging, Keith glanced over at Adrian, still sound asleep. "Well, soon. I don't know how long people usually wait for these things."</p><p class="western">Lance's smile was indulgent. "It's up to you, babe. You're the one who's gonna get inundated with <em>everything</em>."</p><p class="western">"Don't remind me," Keith said, mouth twisting in distaste. "Believe me, if I had my way no one would know about her until she was already able to fend for herself."</p><p class="western">Lance sniffed. "Good luck keeping her a secret for eighteen years."</p><p class="western">"Well, twelve or thirteen," Keith countered frankly. Lance's phone buzzed on the coffee table before Lance himself could say anything else, and he checked the notification.</p><p class="western">"Speak of the devil, that's Hunk texting. Wants to know if you're okay."</p><p class="western">He put the ball in Keith's court for the answer. "Tell him I'm just fine."</p><p class="western">–</p><p class="western">"You're <em>kidding</em>!" Pidge squawked over the phone, voice pitching higher than Keith had ever heard it and making his ear ache. "We just had you over on the Fourth and everything-- what the hell?!"</p><p class="western">"Pidge, please, I need to hear for the next… rest of my life," Keith protested, pulling his phone away from his ear. Lance shrugged sympathetically at him, thumbs flying over his phone screen in a rapid-fire Messenger conversation with Hunk. He was unfortunately at work and couldn't talk, but he could text.</p><p class="western">"You were <em>pregnant</em>? And didn't <em>know?!</em> <em><b>Keith</b></em>!"</p><p class="western">"What do you want me to say?" Keith tried to defend himself from her incredulity, floundering from the intensity of her reaction. "Pidge, I haven't had a period in three years, what else would I have to clue me in?"</p><p class="western">"Uhhhh morning sickness? Fatigue? An entire baby <em>punching you up from the inside</em>?!"</p><p class="western">Keith massaged his temple, torn between frustration and breaking into hysterical laughter. "Pidge, I thought I was infertile. You saw me; I only gained ten pounds and I thought the kicking was gas from, like, hidden lactose or something."</p><p class="western">"You still should've used a fucking condom!"</p><p class="western">"We <em>did</em>."</p><p class="western">She fell silent for a moment after that. Lance put his phone to his ear and walked out of the room, speaking quickly in hushed Spanish to his mother.</p><p class="western">"So it was a complete accident and I <em>don't</em> need to kick Lance in the nards?"</p><p class="western">Keith shook his head, chuckling. "Please don't." He much preferred that part of Lance fully functioning.</p><p class="western">"Holy crow," Pidge said, voice coming back to its usual mellow tones as she regathered herself. "You really had no idea?"</p><p class="western">"No idea," Keith reiterated.</p><p class="western">"Are you okay?"</p><p class="western">"We're all fine."</p><p class="western">Her breath crackled over the line. "The baby?"</p><p class="western">"She's fine. Healthy." Adrian had already gained several ounces since she was born, assuaging some of Keith's fears she would stay too tiny forever.</p><p class="western">"What'd you name her?"</p><p class="western">A happy little glow beat in Keith's chest. That was the voice of a girl who fully intended to battle Veronica McClain herself for the role of favorite auntie. "Adrian."</p><p class="western">"...Can I see a picture?"</p><p class="western">–</p><p class="western">Keith stood in the hallway, Adrian in his arms. He fretted at the hem of her bonnet, convincing himself it wasn't laying quite right and it needed to sit just so. She was in a simple onesie, one that had little stars and moons speckled around an indigo sky. Keith had tried to make himself presentable by wearing a nicer T-shirt, but he couldn't bear jeans at the moment and made do with old joggers borrowed from Lance, although they kept falling down his hips and getting caught under his heels. Lance watched him fuss, giving him space but only an arm's length away if Keith needed him.</p><p class="western">"Are you nervous?" he checked in, reading the lines of Keith's tense face and shoulders. Keith sighed, shifting on his feet. This was the first he'd been able to stand up straight and hold Adrian in a solid week, and he was trying to make good on it. He was also still bleeding, and the discomfort was more now to do with that and the thick pads he still needed to use than with the slight cramping.</p><p class="western">"What's everyone gonna say?" he said, voice shaking. Lance stepped closer and reached for the frazzled ends of his hair, gathering them in a little paintbrush ponytail at his nape. He didn't have a hairtie with him, so he swept the tail aside and kissed the exposed back of Keith's neck.</p><p class="western">"They're gonna say she's beautiful, and they'll probably tell you that you look great." He smiled over at Keith. "They're our friends, Keith. They're happy for us."</p><p class="western">The doorbell rang and Keith flinched, arms tightening slightly over the infant in his arms. Lance tucked his hair behind his ear and kissed his cheek this time, giving him a reassuring nod before moving to get the door. He didn't miss how Keith turned slightly away, as if trying to shield Adrian from view.</p><p class="western">Hunk poked his head in first, face lighting up when he spotted Keith. "Hey, buddy. I'm glad to know you didn't die."</p><p class="western">Keith snorted and Lance laughed out loud. Hunk stepped closer but still kept his distance, rightfully understanding Keith felt a little skittish at the moment. "Her name is Adrian, right?"</p><p class="western">Keith nodded, a tentatively proud smile working across his face. He turned back toward Hunk, letting him see more of the baby. She had awakened and her large dark eyes blinked up at the newcomer to her life. "Hey, sweetheart," Hunk cooed as he leaned down to her, completely melting. "It's Uncle Hunk."</p><p class="western">Lance joined Keith at his side, arm around his shoulders to steady him. Keith hitched her a little higher on his hip, more level with Hunk's eyeline. Her little hand reached clumsily toward him.</p><p class="western">"I think she likes you," Keith murmured, heart thrumming with delight. Hunk preened.</p><p class="western">"Keith, man, I feel like you had a baby with just yourself. It's like looking at twins."</p><p class="western">"That's what I keep telling him. She has my smile, though."</p><p class="western">"I can see that. Yes, I <em>can</em>!" Hunk said, grin broad enough to split his face in two as Adrian blessed him with that very same smile. A knocking on the door behind him interrupted his gushing and Pidge let herself in, bounding forward with a relatively large box in her arms and pleading to see the new baby.</p><p class="western">"Never would have pegged you to like rugrats, Pidge," Lance said easily, eyes sparkling with amusement. Pidge scowled briefly at him, unable to fully mask over her complete meltdown over Adrian's very existence.</p><p class="western">"Is that any way to talk to Nini Pidge? <em>I</em> don't want kids, that doesn't mean I won't like my friends' kids."</p><p class="western">"Nini?" Hunk repeated. Pidge shrugged, face pink from more than just her excitement at the new arrival.</p><p class="western">"I'm trying it out... Not sure if 'auntie' suits me, you know?"</p><p class="western">Something piqued in the back of Keith's mind, a question he felt like he needed to ask Pidge later. But then she was bouncing on the spot, hands clasped in front of her.</p><p class="western">"You wanna hold her?" Keith offered shyly.</p><p class="western">"I was here first!" Hunk protested, without any force behind it. Lance was gently pulling Keith away, steering him toward the living room.</p><p class="western">"How about we all get sitting down before Keith faints at the attention?" he teased, pausing to smooch Keith's temple as his face colored bright red – indeed, from all of the fuss around him.</p><p class="western">Hunk helped Pidge carry in the package she had brought, and set it on the coffee table. "Matt really wanted to come," she explained his absence, "but it's his boyfriend's birthday and he kind of had to choose. So I told him I'd get some pictures." She pointed at the box. "That's from both of us, by the way. You can open it later. It's just some baby things that our parents still had and never got rid of." She shrugged. "Since Matt's gay and I'm ace, I think they've kinda given up on passing them on for grandkids."</p><p class="western">"Adoption?" Hunk queried. Pidge shrugged.</p><p class="western">"Not my alley, and Matt's never said anything about it to me." She sat next to Keith on the couch, and with some help from Lance they passed the baby over. Adrian mewled at the shift in gravity but seemed to find it comfortable in Pidge's arms, her glasses slipping to the tip of her nose as she gazed down at the fidgeting infant. "I gotta say, though, this one <em>almost</em> makes me want to reconsider."</p><p class="western">"Wait and see if she starts crying, you'll change your mind right back," Keith said dryly, the shadows under his eyes telling the rest of the story. Lance rubbed his shoulder apologetically; they tried to tag-team during the night. Changing was no problem for Lance to do, but if Adrian wanted feeding then it was genuinely easiest to have Keith give her the bottle.</p><p class="western">"I did say 'almost,'" Pidge repeated herself, bouncing Adrian in her arms. "She definitely has your smile, Lance," she said when she was rewarded with a broad toothless grin. "Keith's eyes, though. Especially if they stay this color."</p><p class="western">"Where'd the hair come from?" Hunk quipped, making it very clear he was teasing, but Lance shrugged and Keith looked bemused.</p><p class="western">"No gingers in my family," Lance said.</p><p class="western">"I wouldn't know," Keith put in, shrugging. All he had to go one was what he looked like. <em>23andMe</em> had been an appealing idea until people started talking about the privacy issues involved, so he proceeded to content himself with "Korean mutt" and retain a tiny lingering hope that eventually someone would find him and explain who he was.</p><p class="western">Right now, though, he was Lance's fiance, and the bearer of Lance's child – although what that made him practically speaking, he still couldn't decide.</p><p class="western">"Pidge," Keith said as an aside, although it wasn't anything he didn't want Hunk or Lance to hear, "Where did you get 'nini?'"</p><p class="western">Pidge glanced around the room. She looked a little self-conscious. "I looked up neutral words for things like aunt and uncle, niece and nephew, things like that. I'm still a girl, I think... I'm just less certain of it, recently."</p><p class="western">"We love you for you, Pidge," Lance said.</p><p class="western">"Yeah, just let us know when you figure it out," Hunk added.</p><p class="western">"Do you want us to use different pronouns?" Keith offered. She beamed at him.</p><p class="western">"Not right now, but thank you, Keith." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, it's just a test drive. I might become Auntie Pidge later, I don't know."</p><p class="western">Keith bounced his knee nervously, the question he'd realized he wanted to ask calling itself to the front. "Did you find anything for parents?"</p><p class="western">She paused, tilting her head. "You're not 'Dad?'" Of course she would piece it together that fast.</p><p class="western">The words died on Keith's tongue.</p><p class="western">"We're kind of still figuring that out," Lance explained.</p><p class="western">"I, uhm. I thought about being 'Mom' for a while, but then I realized…" Keith trailed off, embarrassed. It seemed so silly now, that he tried to do that.</p><p class="western">Pidge playfully bumped her shoulder on his. "I'll send you the Tumblr post later. But I think you'd be a great 'Dad.'"</p><p class="western">"That's what I said." Lance grinned at them. "But you know Keith, he always has to do things the hard way."</p><p class="western">"I like to be sure," Keith countered, scowling. Hunk laughed.</p><p class="western">Hunk and Pidge stayed for only a couple of hours, citing caution against overstimulating Adrian and also allowing Keith to get the rest he still clearly needed. After they left and Lance had put Adrian down to sleep, he joined Keith on the couch, the latter scrolling down a list of alternative titles for parents.</p><p class="western">"See anything you like?" Lance asked after watching over his shoulder for a minute.</p><p class="western">Keith looked doubtful. "Maybe I'm not used to the idea, but I keep thinking it needs to be 'Mom' or 'Dad,' or it won't sit right." He sighed and put his phone down, turning to snuggle against Lance's side. "If I was doing this on my own, I think I'd be 'Dad.'"</p><p class="western">Kissing his brow, Lance wrapped an arm around Keith's back and pulled him in a little closer. "You can still be 'Dad,' babe."</p><p class="western">Keith's fingers curled in Lance's shirt, thumb pad rubbing over the soft fabric. "But you're also 'Dad.'"</p><p class="western">Shaking his head and grinning, Lance rebutted, "I'm <em>Papi</em>. You would be 'Dad.'"</p><p class="western">"<em>Papi</em>?" Keith repeated dryly, craning his face up at Lance. "Should I be '<em>Appa</em>,' then?"</p><p class="western">"You don't even speak Korean anymore," Lance chuckled.</p><p class="western">"I still remember a little bit…" Keith said petulantly, pillowing his head on Lance's chest.</p><p class="western">"Actually…" Lance interjected thoughtfully, "I think 'Appa' would be cute. Like, it's got 'dad energy' without being literally 'Dad,' if that's what's making you uncomfortable – you know what I mean?" And while Keith wasn't sold on the idea yet like Lance seemed to be, he had to admit that it felt a lot more appealing in this situation than the other options he'd considered. "Why are you uncomfortable with 'Dad' if it's not only you?"</p><p class="western">They hadn't discussed it yet, but now seemed like as good a time as any to bring it up. After all, Adrian was already a week old and Keith hadn't made a final decision – he'd been so overwhelmed compressing ten months' worth of planning into just a few days following Adrian's arrival, he'd barely had a chance to think any deeper about his own wants.</p><p class="western">"I guess… If I was alone, I could get away with saying she'd been left with me. And I know cis gay couples adopt all the time and I still wouldn't have to pretend I hadn't given birth to her if I was with someone, but I just feel like… we made her, <em>together</em>, and I would want people to know that right away, even if that meant I had to out myself."</p><p class="western">Lance rubbed his shoulder; his heartrate had quickened just talking about revealing himself. "I want you to be <em>safe</em>," he said simply.</p><p class="western">Sighing again, Keith curled himself tighter. "I know. I just don't know what I'd do if someone asked if she was adopted, or a foster. I don't think I'd react well."</p><p class="western">"You're the only one who has to know she's yours, Keith. Besides, you heard what Hunk and Pidge said; it's obvious you played a part in making her. Anyone who questions that is an idiot."</p><p class="western">"What about you?" Keith protested, looking up at him again. Lance's traits were more subtle in Adrian's features than Keith's – but that smile of his ran strong in the family.</p><p class="western">"I can handle it," was all Lance had to say. With an easy smile, void of the lifetime of 'othering' Keith had endured that made him shy away before people really noticed he was too different. He briefly felt jealous, and like he wanted to lash out. It showed in the irritated twitch of his brows, and Lance tilted his head at him but Keith said nothing. "Do I need to get us all matching daddy-daughter shirts? Will that work?"</p><p class="western">Keith huffed, rolling his eyes. But his lip ticked up. It was a cute idea, on its own. But it brought him back again to the concern that passersby might think she wasn't both of theirs if they both claimed parenthood without acknowledging that Keith delivered her.</p><p class="western">"I don't know what's the right thing to do," he confessed, eyes growing misty in his frustration. Suppressing a little sigh, Lance squeezed him in again and kissed his cheek, wiping away the small tears when they fell.</p><p class="western">"You can think about it again tomorrow. Maybe you already know."</p><p class="western">Perhaps he did. Lance tilted his chin up into a kiss, fingertips stroking along his jaw and down his throat, dipping under his shirt collar. Keith whined softly into the kiss, arms curling around Lance's neck as he carefully tipped them back, Keith landing with a quiet grunt and raising his knees either side of Lance's waist as the other leaned over him, anchoring him without putting too much pressure on the tender parts of his body.</p><p class="western">"Hmm," Lance breathed into the deepened kiss, and a blush spread from Keith's face down through his chest. They couldn't do much more than this; everywhere he read said he should wait at least four weeks after delivering, and he was still far too sore to even consider taking Lance inside of him anyway. But Lance felt warm, and solid, and he drifted his hands along Keith's side just so and he melted, pulling Lance closer until he settled gently on top of him, head pillowed on his shoulder as Keith dragged his fingers through Lance's hair, over the nape of his neck.</p><p class="western">"I wish we could," he murmured as his cheeks colored deeper, a different sort of ache low in his belly now, and he pressed his lips to Lance's crown. "I miss you."</p><p class="western">"I'm right here, babe," Lance joked, though his eyes glowed with longing. He linked fingers with Keith, kissing his knuckles. "Not goin' anywhere." The tiny gold '<em>K</em> ' he wore around his neck fell out the front of his shirt, and Keith couldn't help reaching for it, nor the grin spreading across his face at the sight. They'd bought the necklaces together; Keith frequently wore shirts cut low enough for his to be fully visible, but Lance preferred shirt collars up to his neck. It wasn't that Keith <em>forgot</em> that Lance always wore his gold chain, so much as he loved to be reminded.</p><p class="western">"I love you," he whispered, looking from the golden letter to Lance's face. Lance lifted minutely and kissed the little '<em>L</em>' that had settled in the hollow of Keith's throat, then rested his forehead on Keith's, amused when the dark violet eyes crossed slightly to look at his.</p><p class="western">"I love you, too," he said, kissing Keith's lips then.</p><p class="western">Adrian fussed herself awake in the bassinet, and Keith sighed irritably. Lance laughed, easing himself off to see if she needed changing, and Keith rolled onto his side to look at his phone again.</p><p class="western">"Appa," he whispered to himself, only a slight frown accompanying it. He tried to imagine Adrian a few years older (she looked remarkably like he did as a four-year-old, in his mind), calling after him and Lance with 'Papi' and 'Appa.' He still didn't feel certain, but it gave him less anxiety than imagining if she beckoned him with 'Mom.'</p><p class="western">"I can feed and change her if you're tired," Lance offered, bouncing Adrian in his arms. She wasn't exactly crying, but she was definitely uncomfortable for something. And Keith wanted to object and insist he could do it, but he'd had a long day and in more ways than just physically he felt exhausted. So he nodded, pushing himself to sitting while Lance waited to help him stand if he needed it.</p><p class="western">The arm of the couch provided enough support to get to his feet, so Lance settled for drawing him in for a last kiss goodnight before moving away to prepare formula. Keith stayed awake in bed a few moments more to scroll through the list Pidge had sent him one last time, and then he put the screen down on the nightstand, sound asleep by the time Lance was finally able to come to bed.</p><p class="western">–</p><p class="western">"Hey, Keith; what's up?"</p><p class="western">Keith rubbed the back of his neck. He'd curled up on the couch with the house to himself – Lance had taken Adrian to her latest appointment – and after several minutes of hesitation, finally pressed the 'call' button on Pidge's cell number.</p><p class="western">"Hi, Pidge, I, uh…" Pidge was the last person to get embarrassed about this in front of, he knew, but he wasn't sure how to broach the subject. "So, you remember that list you sent me?"</p><p class="western">"Yeah," Pidge led, sounding like she had already guessed what this was about. That helped Keith's nerves a little bit.</p><p class="western">"Could you… help me decide?"</p><p class="western">There was a little giggle on the other line. "Of course, Keith. What are you thinking of?"</p><p class="western">Keith rubbed his thumb along his forefinger, heart speeding up. "It's kinda silly, but…"</p><p class="western">"Keith," Pidge interrupted, "nothing will ever be as silly as Lance calling himself 'Papi,' and you know it."</p><p class="western">Keith barked a laugh, not ready to admit out loud that at the moment he agreed. Like most things Lance did that made little sense to him at first, he expected he would grow to love it.</p><p class="western">"So…?"</p><p class="western">"...Appa?" Keith offered, hoping Pidge wouldn't laugh.</p><p class="western">She didn't, rather repeated it back to him. "Like in 'Avatar?'"</p><p class="western">"It means 'Dad' in Korean," Keith explained, hand over his eyes. If Lance knew that reference – and he very likely did – it would have been really nice for him to share that information before now.</p><p class="western">"Hey, it's good, I'm just making sure I heard it right," Pidge hastened to explain, as if she'd picked up on Keith's embarrassment over the phone. "Do you like it?"</p><p class="western">Hand still over his face, Keith shrugged a shoulder even though she couldn't see it. "I like it better than anything else I've considered."</p><p class="western">"Well, that's a start," Pidge said, sounding pleased. "Want me to try it out on you?"</p><p class="western">His face grew warm. "If it's not too weird?"</p><p class="western">He could almost hear Pidge's smirk. "Would it help if I sounded like a child when I said it?"</p><p class="western">"Please don't," Keith said right away, already cringing. God, why was this so <em>embarrassing</em>?</p><p class="western">"Well," Pidge said, blessedly in her normal voice, "What do you think, Appa?"</p><p class="western">It sounded as odd as Keith anticipated, but it didn't make something twist uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, like he'd just been caught doing something wrong but wasn't sure how much trouble he was in. Rather, it just sort of wafted over him. And maybe he felt the tiniest bit lighter for hearing it.</p><p class="western">Sort of like how it felt when he chose his name.</p><p class="western">"That's… good," he said, feeling inexplicable relief, "I like that." He breathed in, out, let his heartrate come down. "Are you still deciding on 'nini'?" he asked suddenly, desperate to fill the silence that followed.</p><p class="western">"Still thinking about it. But, it sounds alright when someone else says it. We'll see," she said frankly, and Keith grinned to himself. They both knew how this worked.</p><p class="western">"Hey, Pidge? Thanks," Keith said, blushing.</p><p class="western">"Anytime, dude," she said, and they exchanged goodbyes, hanging up just as Lance was unlocking the door and stepping in. Keith rose to his feet, padding into the entry hall as Lance kicked off his shoes.</p><p class="western">"How was she?"</p><p class="western">"Took it like a champ," Lance said, handing Adrian over to Keith before he shrugged off his light jacket, "Looks like she might have your pain tolerance after all."</p><p class="western">"I talked to Pidge," Keith said suddenly, cradling Adrian against his chest as she fussed at the change of hands.</p><p class="western">"Yeah? About what?"</p><p class="western">Keith gnawed his lip. "Appa."</p><p class="western">"Hm?"</p><p class="western">Keith shifted on his feet. "I think I want to be 'Appa.'"</p><p class="western">Lance stilled, halfway in the coat closet. "Not 'Mom?'" he clarified, partly teasing.</p><p class="western">Keith shook his head. "Definitely not." Looking relieved, Lance hung his jacket up and strode over to Keith, linking his arms around his waist. "That's great," he said, bumping their foreheads together, "I'm glad you found something you like."</p><p class="western">"Do you like it?"</p><p class="western">"I like everything you do, as long as you're happy." Lance withdrew slightly to peck Keith's hairline, then leaned in again. "Do you like it?"</p><p class="western">Flushing again, Keith nodded, eyes closed. "Yeah, I like it. A lot. More than 'Mom.' Or 'Dad.'"</p><p class="western">Chuckling, Lance kissed him again, on the lips this time, before ducking down to kiss Adrian's brow. She squealed and fidgeted her little hands in an act of indignation that could only have been passed down from Keith, which only made Lance laugh louder and Keith pout his lips irritably. But he had to laugh at it too, at how obviously his characteristics showed in Adrian's little features, and he had to admit to himself now how reckless he had been. Of course she was his; anyone could see that. Only the people who mattered needed to know her story.</p><p class="western">And he looked into his daughter's eyes, still so dark blue but maybe a shade closer to violet than when he last really looked; he gazed up at Lance, with his broad cat-like smile and his expression so enamored with his lover and the child they'd made together. And maybe they wouldn't always make the right decisions at first, but they would always have time to talk things out, and to learn. And somehow, whatever else happened, he felt that might actually be enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hmmmmmm I never like my endings <strike>buuuuuuut that means I can be persuaded to write more down the line, maybe.</strike> but I don't know what more to do for this right now, and I've made y'all wait long enough (not that anyone was clamoring for this as far as I'm aware? IDK)</p><p>I also see AO3 is still on its bullshit of weird spaces where they're not supposed to exist. I never catch all of them, either. Rude. :/</p><p>Now go wash your hands and stop touching your face. Also please sanitize your phone/tablet/laptop. </p><p>Thanks for reading, y'all. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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